


Hopeless

by ohellnovak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Drunk Castiel, Episode: s05e17 99 Problems, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 19:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2162307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohellnovak/pseuds/ohellnovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this is basically a one-shot of what happens when Castiel hears what Joshua said about God in heaven. He finds a liquor store. Set in 5.17.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hopeless

Castiel remembered the time before he rebelled very clearly. He remembered a voice inside him screaming that his orders were not God's will. Saying the angels were going to destroy everything and that he had to leave before it was too late. The voice was loud and almost impossible to ignore, and guilt washed over him every time he heard it. But the fear of what would become of him if he disobeyed quickly muffled the voice every time. Thousands of thoughts would race through his head regarding what might happen if he rebelled. He would be cast out. He would be considered an abomination. He would be like Lucifer. It went on like this inside his mind for weeks, but the sight of Dean begging him to do the right thing finally strengthened the voice. If he had learned anything in that past year, it was that Dean Winchester was a good man. He couldn't let him get pulled into this.

So he rebelled.

The time after hadn't been any less confusing. He was constantly questioning whether siding with humanity was the right choice. But, the apocalypse couldn't possibly be God's will, right? Even if his father had been gone for what felt like an eternity, he would never let the world crumble under Lucifer's control. Something had to be wrong.

But there was nothing wrong. And everything Dean had told him about what he heard in heaven was still swimming around in his head. He heard Dean call his name as he teleported out of the room, but Castiel knew he shouldn't stay. He couldn't be around the Winchesters when he was so furious- he needed to be somewhere alone where he could think.

Castiel reappeared on a small road in some insignificant town that would probably be nothing but ashes in a few years' time. He couldn't remember the name of it, but it didn't really matter anyway. He quickly started walking and his anger only continued to build up. God could stop everything with the snap of his fingers, but he "just didn't feel like it was his problem?" Just because God created humans and angels didn't mean he could play with them like toys. Castiel had put his last ounce of faith in an absent father, and it had all been for nothing. He didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.

He suddenly stopped in his tracks as the fury finally took over his body. "Why are you doing this to us?!" Castiel yelled towards the sky. "I believed in you! I tried to find you because I still had hope! I thought you could help, but you're just a coward!" His eyes lingered towards the sky for a few seconds after until he finally willed himself to look down. There was no one around to hear him, but he wouldn't have even cared if there had been. Castiel was out of breath and didn't feel any better. He needed to relax.

The angel didn't know what to do or where to turn and wished he had something to take his anger out on. There were no more options left. He was becoming weaker everyday and there was nothing he could do anymore.

Thoughts like this clouded his mind until his fury quickly changed into despair. He was useless. He had been weak for months, but now it was worse. He was weak with no plan. No faith. He lost all he had for nothing.

He kept walking down the cracked road with an expression that could only be described as utter hopelessness as he passed by many people that couldn't care less if he looked upset. Little did they know it would affect them all at some point. He didn't really focus on them or anything at all until something caught his eye- it was a liquor store.

Dean always seemed to drown his worries in booze and he wondered if it would work for himself. It didn't take long to make up his mind. Of course, a part of him knew that alcohol never actually solved peoples' problems, it only made them forget for a short amount of time. But he didn't really care right now. He had no other ideas.

Castiel slowly made his way to the small store on the corner. He took a deep breath as he opened the door and walked through, and the amount of liquor lining the walls astounded him. What kind should he buy? And how much?

As he thought over his choices and glanced over the shelves, overwhelmed by his options, a man walked by wearing a name tag.  _He must work here,_  Castiel thought.

He placed a hand on his shoulder and roughly spun him around. "I need your strongest alcohol."

The man seemed a little startled at first, but as the shock wore off, he mumbled something along the lines of "follow me" and started walking towards one of the shelves. Castiel quickly followed.

"Here, man." The worker took a bottle off the shelf and offered it to him. "Well?" He seemed impatient as he gave him a look that even Castiel recognized as annoyance. He realized how impatient he was too as he snatched the clear bottle from the man's hands.

The man quickly turned around and walked back towards whatever he was doing before as Castiel glanced over the bottle. In that moment, it dawned on him that he was turning to liquor for solace. He couldn't be any further from angelic.

Castiel tried to clear the thought from his mind as he walked towards the check out counter where the same man was sitting, his head already buried in a magazine. Castiel placed the bottle on the counter with a loud thud that seemed to get his attention. He quickly realized that he needed money and immediately started digging through his pockets. Luckily, he had started carrying cash with him recently. He didn't know why he would need money at the time, but now he was glad he had taken some. The fact that he could easily steal the bottle didn't even occur to him. 

He found a crumpled 100 in the left pocket of his trench coat and placed it on the table. "Will this cover it?" The man smiled and gave him an "are you serious" look. Castiel had gotten the same look from Dean on multiple occasions, but it confused him in this situation. "Yeah man, that's enough," the worker said, clearly amused.

Castiel picked up the bottle, relieved, and walked out the door. He anxiously sat down on the curb outside and opened it. Doubts about what he was about to do flowed through his mind up until the moment the liquid touched his lips. It ran down his throat a little too quickly, and the sip ended as fast as it had started. He wasn't prepared for the strange sensation of the fiery drink flowing down his throat and the burning feeling it left behind. But he had nothing else to do besides walk around aimlessly or drink, and the first one didn't get him anywhere. So, he chose the best option.

The second sip went over much better. He didn't drink it as fast, and he was prepared for the hot sensation of the liquid against his tongue and throat. It was almost nice. Two sips became three, three sips became five, and five sips became eight. Soon enough, half the bottle was gone and he was starting to feel a little different. It wasn't exactly what he expected, but then again, Castiel didn't really know exactly what he was expecting. His whole body was warm and maybe he felt a little l better, but it wasn't enough. He downed the second half much quicker than the first, hoping the sensation of being intoxicated would grow stronger. When he realized the bottle was empty, he stood up, ready to go back in and get more. He stumbled a little when he got to his feet, but he could still walk straight.

Castiel walked back into the store and bought five more bottles, hoping they would last. The man at the counter gave him a strange look, but he didn't notice in his slightly drunken state. He couldn't even tell that his usually keen senses were dulling.

He left the store slower than he had the first time, but he got through the bottle even quicker. The sensation grew stronger as he sat on the curb and tried to get the next one open. His vision was getting a little blurry around the edges, but his worries began to blur together, too. 

★★★

The next few days were a dull haze. Castiel was still an angel, so he couldn't sleep or pass out. So, whenever he felt the liquor beginning to wear off, he quickly found his hands on another bottle. He had no idea where he was most of the time, but all of his previous worries were long gone. It was easy to forget your problems when you couldn't even put your thoughts together. He understood why Dean drank so much.

During a short time where he was almost sober, he realized he had a message on his phone.  _Probably from Dean,_  he thought. After he finally figured out how to listen to the voice mail, he realized he was almost right.  _Sam. Great._  The message was long, and he wasn't intoxicated enough not to care. Sam said something about a prophet. The Winchesters always needed something.

He tried to tell himself that he didn't want to answer their call because he was tired of helping them, but he knew that wasn't true. He had been as close as he had ever been to happy while he was drinking, and he knew being thrown back into the crazy antics of the apocalypse would take it all away. He would be sober, angry, and self-loathing again- three things that didn't go very well together. At that moment, he really wished alcohol was permanent. 


End file.
